


The Best Protection You Don’t Know

by baruffio



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 18:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baruffio/pseuds/baruffio
Summary: There's a reason that Ryan has grown more audacious since Season 1.





	The Best Protection You Don’t Know

“Huh,” Shane said. “There’s something in my shoe.”

“Probably not.” Ryan glanced over his shoulder as he continued down the hallway. “Could be one thousand other things.”

“Right,” Shane humored him. “Like a ghost running his thumb across the ball of my foot with every step.”

“I’m just considering the possibilities,” Ryan said. “Come on, keep moving.”

“Now wait just a minute.” Shane leaned against a wall and yanked off his boot.

“That wall doesn’t look structurally sound,” Ryan insisted. “Come on, Shane!”

Shane cocked his head as he shook his shoe. “Geeze, Ryan. Hold your horses.”

“Looks empty.”

Shane stared at Ryan for a few long seconds, then dug under the sole of his boot. Ryan turned away as Shane withdrew a small, round, silver plate imprinted with a Celtic crucifix. “You put this in my ghoul-stomping boots.”

It wasn’t a question, and Ryan begrudgingly turned back around. “What was I supposed to do with you lying in pentagrams and beleaguering spirits to murder you?”

“Ry,” Shane said, his caterpillar eyebrows inching upwards in exasperation. “You’re proving to me that ghosts are real. I’m proving to you that ghosts aren’t. You’re never going to consider my evidence if you think that you’re warding them off.”

“Don’t _Ry_ me!” Ryan squawked. “You are asking me watch you get possessed in your vain attempt to prove me wrong, and I won’t!”

“And here I thought that you were chilling out,” Shane huffed. “You do see how this makes it impossible for you to see reality--”

“It makes it impossible for you!” Ryan retorts. “It only confirms what I know.”

Shane dropped his shoe and started wiggling his foot back in. “Please, O Great Bergara, explain your pseudoscience for us.”

“With you being all warded, I’ve been feeling more activity--”

“Imagining more--”

“Shane, kindly shut the fuck up.”

Shane gave Ryan a long, hard look, and silence rose impenetrably between them. Ryan glowered back. Shane’s gaze softened. “It’s really brave for you to make yourself a target,” Shane said. Ryan blinked and looked away. “No, really, Ryan. That’s maybe the nicest thought anyone has ever had.”

“You keep talking to them,” Ryan said miserably.

“You do too,” Shane reminded him.

“Of course.” Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Ahhh. Another protective mechanism?” Ryan didn’t answer. “I don’t need your protection--”

“You’re just like a kid.” Ryan’s voice was shaking . “You don’t know what’s out there, and you’re just gleefully running into the middle of everything, not knowing or caring what happens. I couldn’t do nothing!”

“And I apprec--”

“You just laughed it off. I can’t stop you from doing things, and I just knew if I was upfront about doing the wards, you’d want to get rid of them.”

“Wards?” Shane repeated with a hard emphasis on the s, and then he slapped a hand to his forehead. “What all did you do to prepare for this trip, Ry?” He pulled at his bracelet. “This isn’t a friendship bracelet, is it?” Ryan scowled.  “How far does this go? Do you request our hotdogs be boiled in holy water?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Ryan said.

“You brought me coffee this morning. Was that part of this too?”

“Oh, so you’re telling me,” Ryan started, his voice rocketing in volume. “You’re telling me that if you saw someone ignorant ignorantly walking to their stupid demise, you wouldn’t make any attempt to stop them?”

“Look at the facts!”

“Look at the risk! You can’t deny that there’s a risk!”

“You would be so mad if I told you that you were acting like a child and fearing shadows, yet you are constantly slandering my reasoning! Look at that, Ryan!” Shane brushed past Ryan and stalked down the hall.

“Shit,” Ryan said. “Shane, look…” He trailed ineffectually down the hall after him. “Look, I--”

“This looks like a good place,” Shane said, turning suddenly and yanking the Spirit Box out from Ryan’s hands. “I’ll go ahead and take my five minutes in this broom closet. He didn’t say that the Spirit Box was preferable to Ryan’s company, but it was pretty strongly implied. Ryan hunched down against the wall and pulled at his hair. He hated it when Shane was angry.

Shane was mad at him and yeah, maybe Ryan did handle it horribly, but it was for Shane’s own good. The rest of the episode would be...it would be alright, actually. Shane would come out of the closet completely over it, and he wouldn’t hold it against Ryan but accept it as part of him, but that part of him would drive a wedge between them, it would push Shane away, and Shane had enough friends that Ryan would slowly but surely fall to the wayside, and Ryan would know that he had been the dick and had no one to blame but himself and then he would die alone and his guilt would be so strong he’d end up haunting Shane and Shane would never recognize him because he didn’t fucking believe in ghosts.

Ryan distantly realized he was spiraling. He tucked his head into his arms and tried to breathe deep, but panic was a jackknife in his lungs, and his breathing was only getting faster. 

In the closet, the Spirit Box crackled and spat. Ryan’s hair stood on end as he heard a few words drift through the door. 

…. _accident….bad….bad...bad…_

“You okay?” Ryan called out before he remembered that Shane didn’t want to talk to him.

“Of course,” Shane called back. “I’ve got another three and a half minutes left.”

“Right,” Ryan said. “Sorry?”

_….no….bad…_

“Difficulty stringing your words together, hmm?” Shane said. “I gather you had a bad accident?”

_……………...Shyan…_

“My name is Shane,” Shane corrected.

_Shyan….go…_

Ryan scooched closer and pressed his ear into the door of the closet.

“Where would you like me to go?”

_……...NOW…..please…_

Ryan held his breath and waited for Shane to respond.

“Did you die in here? Seems awful cramped. Not a fun way to go.”

_….day...day...n...ger…_

“I’m having a hard time believing,” Shane continued conversationally. “But Ryan will wet himself over this.”

The Spirit Box cut off silently, and Ryan slowly counted to ten. Right when he was about to call for Shane, Shane opened the door. Ryan flinched backwards and sprawled backwards onto the floor.

“Ry,” Shane said tragically. “I don’t think you could handle being in there. Great reception.” His eyes were much softer, much more open than when he had first gone into the broom closet, and Ryan felt relief spread, warm and glowing, through his limbs.

“Is that a challenge?” he responded, shoving his wobbly legs upright and swiping the Spirit Box from under Shane’s arm.

“Just the facts,” Shane shrugged, and something in his eye sent a sliver of trepidation through Ryan’s body. He wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“I’ve got this,” Ryan insisted. He took a breath, stepped into the broom closet, and shut the door behind him. “Alright. I don’t have any information about this closet, so maybe we could start off with names? I’m Ryan Bergara. I’m not here to hurt you, I just want…” He shut his eyes and let himself depart from his usual script. “...I just want my friend here to see that I’m not crazy, that you’re real, that--”

_He is here_.

Ryan honest-to-God shrieked. He burst through the closet door, narrowly avoiding bowling into Shane, and pressed his back into the far wall.

“I didn’t fucking touch it,” Ryan said. “It did that on it’s own. Shit, shit, shit, we’re fucked--”

“Did what on its own?”

“Don’t do this to me, don’t fucking do this to me,” Ryan panted. “It said ‘He is here.’ Three distinct syllables.”

“This will have to be one of those Post Mortem discussions. Especially in a space that small, anything could have made that sound.”

“What sounds like a Spirit Box, huh? Rustling clothes? Breathing? No, really, give me a reason.”

“It could be anything.”

“Yeah,” Ryan said smugly. “Including a ghost.”

_...demn…_

“It said demon!” Ryan shouted.

“Sounded more like damn,” Shane retorted. “As in, ‘Damn, the little guy sure spooks easy.’”

“We should get out. It already told you to go.”

“What about the episode? We’ve only seen two of the rooms on the tour.”

Ryan stared up at Shane. Shane calmly stared back.

“You’re serious.”

“Absolutely. Second option, of course, is you head back to the car and I get some more footage. The fans will coo about you sprinting out of the house.”

“Third option is you go fuck yourself,” Ryan snapped.

Shane laughed amicably, and Ryan squared his shoulders. He was losing, and his heart pounded a tattoo against his ribs.

“How many options are there exactly?” Shane asked.

“One,” Ryan said.

“I’m listening.”

“We stick together. For safety.”

“Okay,” Shane shrugged. “Are we staying?”

“I couldn’t live with not,” Ryan said. “I’ll have to take the risk.”

“Oh,” Shane laughed, and Ryan scowled at him. “Sorry, buddy. Keep on steeling yourself. Is this your ‘Avengers Assemble’ moment?”

“Shut up,” Ryan grimaced, but Shane’s mirth was contagious and he found himself laughing in a matter of moments.

“We good?” Shane asked, and it was so nonchalant that Ryan took a moment to see the peace offering.

“Yeah,” he said. “Now let’s go prove you wrong!”

“Likewise,” Shane beamed back.


End file.
